


Slow Death By Embarrassment

by inanis_mortem



Category: ACCA13区監察課 | ACCA 13-ku Kansatsuka
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nino - Freeform, a piece for a recent zine, and theres some embarrassed jean in there, lotta is in there, nino is being well, some baking stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 21:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13599222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inanis_mortem/pseuds/inanis_mortem
Summary: I wrote this for the Crown & Crow zine last year, thought I'd post it here as well :D





	Slow Death By Embarrassment

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Crown & Crow zine last year, thought I'd post it here as well :D

“Is something burning?” Jean calls out warily as he steps into the apartment, the acrid smell of charred food hitting him like a wave. It’s been awhile since Lotta’s last kitchen related disaster that’s gotten serious enough to call the fire department, but he has his phone on hand anyways.

 

Nino’s voice rings faintly as he yells an answer Jean doesn’t quite catch from the general direction of the kitchen.

 

He hears the patter of bare feet against tile before both Nino and Lotta are sliding to a stop in front of him, Lotta grinning impishly, her arms behind her back as she tries to hide something, Nino struggling to maintain a poker face. 

 

“Yes. Well no. Not anymore,” Lotta tells him a little too cheerfully and Jean eyes their food stained aprons, Lotta’s usually pristine white splattered with red and brown, white explosions dotting Nino’s black one. Lotta speaks again before he can inquire further, plastering a charming smile across her face. “We got distracted,” she admits sheepishly, giggling a little. “So we have charred cookies for dessert tonight instead of chocolate chip cookies.” 

 

“Distracted? With what?” Jean asks, shoving his phone into his pocket and Lotta shifts, still keeping whatever she’s holding out of view. Lotta shakes her head in response and Jean raises an eyebrow, looking at Nino for an answer. He ends up huffing in annoyance when Nino shakes his head as well, grinning slyly.

 

Jean puts down his bag, shrugging off his jacket and hangs it, watching Lotta and Nino trade scheming looks. It’s generally not a good thing, for him anyways, when they’re doing something together that he doesn’t know about, because while they have the time of their lives watching him run in circles, he suffers a slow, slow death by embarrassment.

 

“Should I show him?” Lotta directs the question at Nino as if Jean isn't standing right there. Nino tilts his head and taps his chin, pretending to consider before his grin widens.

 

“I don't think he needs to see it.” 

 

Jean rolls his eyes, leaning forward in a half hearted attempt to grab at whatever Lotta’s holding. Lotta more than easily dances out of his lazy lunges, giggling as Jean stops to take off his shoes and socks when Nino gestures to Jean’s muddied shoes. 

 

“Lotta, can I please see?” Jean requests politely, catching a glimpse of a dark navy blue book. Lotta shakes her head and leaps over the couch to evade him, the object coming into view for a second before it's tucked behind her back again. “Is that… Is that a photo album?” Jean asks, a feeling of dread starting to build up. “From Nino?”

 

Nino’s quiet snicker confirms it and Lotta is screeching with delight as Jean darts around the couch, snatching it from her, flipping open the album. 

 

Lotta collapses onto the couch in a fit of laughter and Jean’s torn between joining her or dying on the spot because Nino’s taken a lot of photos of him, but not all were his proudest moments. 

 

“You're a-” Lotta has to stop whatever she’s saying to catch her breath, Nino delicately plucking the album from Jean’s slack hands while placing a soft kiss on the side of Jean’s head. “You're a cute drunk.”

 

Jean hangs his heads and slowly closes the album, dormant good, embarrassing, outright not so great memories rushing back. Jean turns to Nino almost wearily, shaking his head slowly.

 

“You're unbelievable. You have an album from our college days?” 

 

Nino flips through the album, shrugging almost carelessly. “I have… Several,” he finally answers. “Some, safe for work. Others, not so much.” 

 

Jean’s ears burn a bright red and Lotta’s laughter cuts off immediately. Another floodgate of bad decisions in full clarity are now very prominent in Nino’s head. 

 

“I really,” Lotta pauses, clutching her stomach, “don't think that was necessary information.” 

 

“No?” Nino feigns cluelessness and Jean feels one of his rare urges of violence starting to form. 

 

“ _ No _ ,” Jean croaks, still staring at his feet when Lotta shoves her apron into his arms, announcing that she needs to get more ingredients for another attempt at cookies that won't burn this time around, and ordering the two of them to clean up the kitchen while she’s gone.

 

When she's gone, Nino flips the album over so that Jean can see the photo and Jean nearly chokes on air. It's him, playing spin the bottle, shirt unbuttoned, lipstick smeared over his face, sharpie doodles on his forehead coupled with a lack of pants.

 

Again,  _ not one of his proudest moments _ .

 

“This was a great photo,” Nino says when Jean elects not to respond. “One of my best.”

 

“I hate you,” Jean finally manages to grind out, not much conviction behind his words as he tries to scowl before burying his face into his hands, attempting to stem his growing chortles. Being reminded of his not so sensible days is funnier than he thought it'd be.

 

“I have more, you want to see?” Nino starts to flip again before Jean slams the album shut.

 

“We should really start cleaning. Not that we can't look at them later but we should probably set our priorities straight.”

 

Nino stares at him for a moment before cocking an eyebrow.

 

“But Jean,” he starts and Jean is already rolling his eyes because he knows  _ exactly  _ what comes next. “We aren't exactly… Straight, are we?” Nino finishes, crowing with amusement when Jean tackles him onto the couch.

 

“ _ Nino _ .”

* * *

They don't get much cleaning done.

 

Not much as in making a bigger mess. 

 

It's starts out innocently, Nino’s batter covered finger  _ accidentally  _ grazing Jean’s cheek, or Jean  _ accidentally  _ knocking the vanilla extract onto Nino’s already ruined clothing.

 

It escalates when Jean steals the last chocolate chips, popping them into his mouth to make sure Nino doesn't get them in an attempt to tease him. 

 

Nino, much to Jean’s chagrin is unfazed, and kisses Jean senseless instead, pulling away with a wink before sticking out his tongue to show the chocolate chip he’s managed to steal back. 

 

Nino: 2 | Jean: 1

 

War positively explodes when Nino gets his hands on the flour. Jean receives a face full of white powder and soon, handfuls are flying through the air, both missing more than they hit their opponent. 

 

They end up covered in white, slumped against the cool metal of the fridge in an attempt to cool down, still laughing so hard they can't breathe. 

 

“Lotta’s going to kill us,” Jean mutters lazily as he surveys disarray of pans and baking supplies sprinkled with white. He thinks that the floor has a thin layer as well. “Absolutely going to destroy us out.”

 

“This is going to take forever to clean,” Nino agrees, brushing flour out of Jean’s hair. “It's a good thing I don't live here.” 

 

It takes Jean a couple of seconds to register what Nino’s said before he’s punching Nino gently, ready for a round two of flour wars until Lotta’s shriek echoes through the apartment.

 

“JEAN OTUS! NINO!” They both cringe and Jean is glaring at Nino again. 

 

“This is all your fault,” Jean hisses, gripping Nino’s hand to pull him up as they turn to face Lotta. “All your fault.”

 

“We had fun,” is all Nino says before they're being grilled by Lotta. “Didn't we?” he adds as Lotta pauses for air, glowering at them when they both disregard her to hold their own conversation. 

 

Jean throws him an unimpressed look. 

 

“No.”  _ Yes.  _ He did but he's never going to admit it out loud.

 

“Whatever you say~” Nino sings, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Jean’s head before coming up to sneeze twice in rapid succession, spitting out flour. “That is  _ gross _ .” He imitates gagging, receiving unsympathetic looks from both Lotta and Jean before he swats at Jean’s head again, sending a cloud of dust like particles flying into the air, prompting another exasperated yell from Lotta. 

 

“Nino, stop making it worse!”   
  
“Sorry, princess.” Lotta wrinkles her nose and goes to poke at Nino moodily before she realizes her mistake, and Nino envelopes her in a tight hug, refusing to let go until he’s managed to rub some flour into her hair.    
  
“NINO!” 

 

Nino grins and Jean grudgingly smiles back.

 

Nino: ??? | Jean: ???

 

It doesn't really matter because they both win anyways.

 

**_(Or they lose, if you look at Lotta’s wrath.)_ **


End file.
